By The Fireside
by shadowstarr
Summary: A bunch of one shots, inspired by The Beach.  Pretty much what would be going on inside each character's head if they sat "by the fireside" at The Beach.
1. Just a little Kid

**Just A Little Kid**

**Aang**

_**Good news for the Fire Lord. The nation's greatest threat… is just a little kid. -Iroh**_

He should have known, from the minute that he earned his tattoos, that he would never again be normal.

How could he ever be, a master airbender at age twelve?

He knew that something was going to change, that something would be different, but he tried to pretend that it wouldn't.

Although his friends still treated him the same way after his tattooing, there was a certain barrier between him and the rest of them now, and he could feel it.

He just didn't want to believe it.

So he ignored it, going around and playing his usual games with them, laughing with them, talking with them. But there was something different there now.

It was as though the laughter was just a little bit more forced, their speech just a little bit lower, their games just a little less fun. It was as though they were treating him differently.

As though they were treating him with….. respect.

And he didn't like it one bit.

He couldn't stand feeling separated from all of them, just because of a few little arrows. But, to his dismay, it didn't just stop with his friends.

He began to notice that the adults were acting strangely with him too. All around him, monks were treating him differently, acting like he was equal to them.

But he wasn't, and he knew it.

He was still the same old silly little kid, same old airbender, same old Aang. But that didn't seem to be what everyone else thought. It seemed like to them, he was a different kid, a new Aang, a new person.

But as time went on, Aang began to realize that the broken bridge between him and the other kids was finally mended, and he now felt like he truly fit in again. He soon forgot how upset he had been, how differently he had been treated, and began to feel like himself again.

Everything was back to normal.

And then the monks came.

He saw them at a distance, walking slowly towards the little group of airbenders that Aang and his friends made up. Only when they drew closer did Aang see just how upset they looked.

And he also saw that every eye was turned to him.

As Aang stared at the monks, one of them beckoned to him, calling him forth. Curiously, Aang separated himself from the crowd, walking shyly towards the monks.

"Come, Aang." Monk Gyatso said gently. "There is much to say."

And so, Aang followed the little group of monks, building up the final wall between him and his friends. And there was nothing that he could do to knock it down.

That was when everything was changed for good. He knew that, no matter how much time past, no matter what happened, nothing would ever be the same again. The connection between him and the others was officially broken, the bridge keeping them together ruined for good.

His world was turned upside down, and all because of those five simple words: "Aang, you are the avatar."

It wasn't fair.

Just five words, and suddenly, he was responsible for the fate of the world!

Everywhere he turned, the faces of his fellow airbenders were filled with different emotions.

He could see that some of them feared him, some honored him, and many pitied him.

But what he saw most was hope.

Wherever he looked, wherever he was, there was always someone who put their hopes in him.

And that was what he hated the most.

Everyone believed in him, Aang, a little twelve-year-old boy, and all because some monks told him that he was the avatar.

And he fully believed, that, no matter how hard he tried, no matter what had been, he would never be a normal kid again.

Monk Gyatso did try to comfort him, to play with him, to try to preserve the last little bit of the child left in him, but it wasn't enough.

Aang was working far more than he was playing, and he just couldn't keep his mind straight. But although he was working as hard as he could, the monks seemed to think that they needed to take him away from all that he knew, all that he loved, and decided to seclude him further by sending him away.

And that was the last of it.

Aang knew, that if he didn't leave, right then and there he wouldn't be able to take it.

He now had no one, nothing, to hold on to, and he felt it.

He chose to retreat, run away, away from responsibility and wherever the monks decided to sent him.

He was leaving.

Aang stepped up to the window, staring into the night, knowing, deep down, that he would never see his home, or his people, ever again. He gazed at his world, at all that he had ever known, peering through the veil of rain to stare out at what used to be.

Looking back, happiness seemed to be a treasure that he could not find in the bleak sea of sorrows that he found himself in now.

Stepping onto the windowsill, he opened his glider and prepared to leave behind his home, and with it, his childhood.

Blinking back tears, he stepped out into the world, soaring away from all that was carefree, replacing it instead with responsibility.

Out into the darkness.

Out into the unknown.

Away from his home.

Away from his childhood.

Away from everything.

And the little boy flew off into the rain, beginning his journey of a grown man, but knowing, in his heart, that he was really just a little kid.

* * *

**A/N: There's going to be 9 of these in all (unless I do more.) In a review, let me know who you wanna see next, out of: Toph, Zuko, Iroh, Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai. (Or, if there are other characters you like, let me know about them, too. Thanks! :D)**

**Sokka's next!**


	2. Warrior

**A/N: Switching between the italics and regular font might be a tad confusing- just know when the font is changed, the scene flashes to a different time in Sokka's life.**

**

* * *

**

_**Sokka**_

_**Warrior**_

_Sokka, when you first arrived, you were so unsure. You even seemed down on yourself. But I saw something in you right away. I saw a heart as strong as a lion turtle, and twice as big. And as we trained, it wasn't your skills that impressed showed something beyond that. Creativity, versatility, intelligence…these are the traits that define a great swordsman. And these are the traits that define you. You told me you didn't know if you were worthy, but I believe that you are more worthy than any man I have ever trained._ - Piandao

_You burned my sister!_ – a protective Sokka

* * *

"Be a man…..be a man…stay strong….." Sokka whispered to himself.

The nine year old gripped his boomerang, his knuckles turning white as he stared at the ground, watching the white snow turn red with the blood of war.

Trying not to cry, he glanced over at his sister, to distract himself from the yells and cries of the grieving villagers.

She was standing a few feet away from him, her face pale and her knees shaking.

But although he could see that she was on the verge of tears, trying to keep her face straight as she forced herself to look around, refusing to close her eyes to the horrible images all around, she wasn't crying.

Not one single tear.

And if Katara, his baby sister, wasn't crying, then, Sokka decided, he wouldn't cry either.

As if sensing that he was thinking about her, Katara looked up at Sokka. She stared at him for a moment, as if struggling with something in her mind, and then slowly walked towards him. When she reached him, Sokka looked down at her for a moment, and then reached over and put his arm around her.

They stood there like that, side by side, watching the villagers gathering their dead, seeing them weep quietly.

Sokka looked guiltily down at his hands. Surveying the scene before him, he couldn't help but think that some of this was somehow his fault.

He had always boasted about his fighting skills to anyone who would listen, but when the fire nation actually attacked his home, all of that strength had suddenly left him.

Where was the brave warrior that he had always believed himself to be?

Where was his courage, where was his fighting spirit?

Instead of a soldier, he felt like a foolish little boy who had run away instead of fighting, instead of saving lives…

Standing there, holding on to his sister, he felt so lost, so small, and barely registered that his father was calling to him until Katara pulled on his shirt.

Together, the water tribe siblings walked over to Hakoda, who seemed to be kneeling over something sprawled awkwardly across the ground. Curious, Sokka edged closer, and recognized what his father was looking at.

His mother.

She lay on the soot filled snow, her hair framing her face, half of her body covered in burns.

"Sokka…" his mother groaned.

Surprised that she even had the ability to talk, Sokka stepped forward, stumbling to get closer to his mother.

"Katara…." His mom went on, beckoning her forward.

When she was satisfied that both of her children were standing over her, she gathered her strength and once again began to speak.

"Sokka," She said again, drawing slow, painful breaths.

"Sokka, I know what's coming. Know that I'll miss you, and that I'll always be there." Here she paused, coughing and valiantly trying to keep on breathing.

"I want you to be strong, and…" She shook her head stopping to cough once more before nodding to Katara.

Although he was young, Sokka understood how much meaning had been put into those sentences.

_"I want you to be strong…."_

As his mother used the very last ounce of her strength to talk to Katara, he saw that by not finishing her sentence, she had showed just how much there was left to say, and that it couldn't all be said.

Walking back to his hut, having been ushered away by his worried father, he realized that it was up to him to take his meaning of his mother's unspoken words, and that the importance of what he took upon himself, what he did from this moment on, would change him forever.

* * *

_Sokka quickly put the final touches on his warrior's outfit, making sure that his face paint didn't smudge, before rushing out to see his father and the rest of the men from his tribe._

_He found them at the edge of his little village, everyone from the town standing with them, wishing them safe travels._

_"I'm here, I'm here!" Sokka shouted, causing quite a few heads to turn towards him._

_"It's okay now, we can leave!" The men gave him a sad look, before shaking their heads and turning towards the sea._

_Sokka's smile faltered. " Hey dad." he said, staring around at everyone else. "When are we leaving?"_

_"Sokka…." Hakoda faltered. "Sokka…you're…not coming."_

_"What?" Sokka was shocked._

_Of course he had to come! He had to go to war! He was a man, and he was ready to fight._

_He was a warrior, and he was strong._

_He needed to make up for all of those years that he just sat around, practicing his boomerang, instead of actually being out there._

_He voiced these opinions to his father. "Dad, I need to come! I mean, really! Is there a better warrior anywhere in our tribe than me?"_

_Sokka drew himself up to his full height, putting a triumphant smile on his face. He knew that he had won the fight now. His dad was always telling him how great he was at fighting._

_"Sokka, you're not old enough. You need to stay here, to look after all of the villagers." Seeing the shocked look on his son's face, he quickly hurried on._

_"I mean, really, who else is going to take care of Katara and Gran Gran?"_

_Sokka was amazed. "But..that means….you're leaving….and….without me?" Sokka asked, his voice shaking._

_"Sokka, I'll think about you and your sister every day. Remember to protect every one. You're the man of the village now. Be strong Sokka."_

_And with that, he left._

_Watching his father sail away, feeling the hole in his heart get a little bit bigger, Sokka thought about his dad's last few words to him._

_"Be strong Sokka…."_

_

* * *

_

Sokka glanced at his sister, knowing that she, too understood that they would never hear their mother's voice again.

He studied Katara's face. She was walking with her head down, fingering her newly acquired betrothal necklace.

He knew how hard this had to be for her, and was surprised to see that she still had not shed a tear.

Looking at his baby sister, this little eight year old girl, trying to keep a straight face for the sake of everyone else, after her own mother died, put a new strength in Sokka.

He now knew the true meaning of his mother's words: "I want you to be strong," and realized that she had not meant that he needed to be the greatest warrior, or the strongest man in the world. There were different kinds of strength, and his mother had known that.

And if his little sister could be strong, then so could he.

* * *

_Thinking back, Sokka realized that he had changed, after all of those years._

_He had finally finished his mother's sentence._

_He had finally fulfilled his father's wish._

_He took care of Katara, and, though he rarely admitted it, she took care of him._

_He never forgot his village, he never forgot his people._

_He had done it._

_He was strong._

_He was a warrior._

_

* * *

_

Before entering the house, he took one last look at his beloved village, now turned battlefield. He saw all of the people in the tribe, his family, helping one another, comforting each other.

Death had not been merciful to his little town.

It had come quickly and swiftly, knocking many down in the process.

Sorrow had touched everyone, and Sokka took one last sad look around the village, before walking inside, away from the sad little scene.

He still wasn't sure whether to consider crying one of the new kind of weaknesses or not.

But his mother's words echoed inside his head: "Be strong…be strong…be strong…"

And so, only when he reached his room, only when he was alone, and only when he could stop and believe in his heart that he could really be strong, then, only then, did he finally cry.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks you for reading :D**

**Choices for Chapter 4: Zuko, Iroh, Azula, Ty Lee, Toph, and Mai. (Or anyone else). Let me know :)**

**Chapter three will be Katara.**


	3. Motherly

**A/N: Well, hello there. I sort of kind of maybe haven't updated this in five years. I'M SORRY. I shall hang my head in shame. But seriously, I feel so absolutely horrible, and I can't tell you enough how sorry I am. I'm back, now, if you'll accept me.**

**Also, a note on this chapter: this one and Sokka's chapter are about very similar things, yet they don't mesh very well. That's because Sokka's was written while the show was still going on, before we knew anything about Kya's death, and this one was written afterwards. Just a head's up.**

* * *

**Katara**

**Motherly**

_When our mom died, that was the_

_hardest time in my life. Our family was a mess, but Katara, she had so much_

_strength. She stepped up and took on so much responsibility. She helped fill_

_the void that was left by our mom.- Sokka_

* * *

She didn't want to have to say goodbye.

As she stared at the mound of earth that contained the last remains of her mother, Katara couldn't help but wonder if Kya's spirit was watching her right now.

Suspiciously, she looked up at the sky, half hoping to see her mother's face in the clouds.

Nothing.

Katara sighed, and decided to focus her attention on the people around her instead. Their group was rather small, but Katara understood. The tribe had already paid their respects, leaving only the immediate family some time to air their grief.

Katara's searching eyes found Gran Gran first. She wasn't crying, but was instead staring intently at the grave as if concentrating on it would somehow bring her daughter back. She looked almost angry that it hadn't been working, and seemed on the verge of scolding anybody who interrupted her.

No longer wanting to see the hurt in her grandmother's eyes, Katara moved on.

Seeing Hakoda, however, didn't help. He was standing to her left, weeping visibly, which Katara had to admit was a bit unsettling. Parents just weren't supposed to cry.

But this was a special situation, and she knew it. So she stood there helplessly as her brave, strong father shed tears onto the icy ground.

Tears.

Far too many had been shed the past few days. So many, in fact, that Katara had become simply frustrated with it all and had almost attempted to bend the water from her eyes, just to stop the pain.

Her father had stopped her before she could make a move, but Katara didn't fight him too much. Because deep in her heart, she knew that it was useless anyway. Even if she somehow became a master waterbender, all the bending in the world could not fix this.

Because her mother was gone, and some fancy elemental tricks were not going to bring her back.

Now blinking her own tears out of her eyes, Katara shook herself out of her reverie to look at Sokka, but got nothing from him, as he had his face deliberately hidden in shadow.

If life were fair, Katara, at such a young age, would not have understood why he was hiding. She would not have to intimately know what a lonely thing grief could be.

But life had not been too kind to the Southern Water Tribe as of late. So Katara looked away from her brother to stare fixedly again at her mother's grave, allowing him to mourn in peace.

She didn't even notice the ceremony was over under she heard her father calling for her.

Katara ignored him. She refused to leave her mom behind just yet.

She just wasn't ready.

After a few minutes, she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to find her father smiling sadly down at her.

"It's okay. I understand. I'll be back for you soon."

She watched his back as he left. She knew he wasn't going very far- he never did. But she appreciated the gesture all the same.

As she turned back to the grave, she was startled to realize that she wasn't alone. Sokka was still there, too, standing in the same spot as before.

His face was no longer hidden, but Katara still couldn't tell what he was thinking. He was gazing into the distance, as if not really seeing anything around him.

Timidly, Katara tugged on his coat.

"Sokka?"

He didn't even look at her. He just kept staring at the icy grave as if expecting his mother to pop out of the ground.

"_Just kidding! I've been here all along. Let's go home now!"_

Unsurprisingly, nothing happened.

Katara sighed and plopped down to the icy ground, reaching for Sokka's hand as she went. He allowed himself to be pulled down, and the two water tribe siblings sat together in silence.

After awhile, a quiet voice made Katara jump.

"What do we do now?"

Katara looked inquisitively at her brother.

"What do you mean?"

For the first time, Sokka turned his head to look at her. His eyes were shining with tears, but for some reason, his expression was one of terror instead of sadness or anger. Whatever her brother was thinking, it scared him to no end.

"What- what do we do now?" Sokka repeated. "Now that- now that mom's…" he paused, as if not ready to admit that their mother was gone.

Katara stayed silent, giving her brother time to gather his words. Finally, he looked up again, wiping his eyes.

"Katara…think about it. Mom- well, mom did everything for us. Now that she's not-"

He gulped as if trying to work up his courage, and continued on in a shaky voice. "-now that she's not….here anymore….well, we're kinda on our own."

"Sokka, we've got-"

"Yeah, I know we have dad and I love him and all but…"

He shook his head, frustrated and upset. After a few moments, he spoke again, this time in a very quiet, very timid voice that Katara, sitting next to him, needed to strain to hear.

"Who's going to tell me to pick up my socks?"

To anyone else, it would seem very out of place for a mourning son to mention socks, of all things, by his mother's gravesite.

But Katara understood.

Her brother was, to put it bluntly, horribly messy. His socks, in particular, always managed to find their way to the floor, and never seemed to be picked back up.

But every night, without fail, their mother would come home, see the pile of laundry, and tell Sokka to put away his socks.

It seemed like such a small thing to worry about that it was almost laughable. But Katara knew there was nothing humorous about it this time.

Because they would never hear their mother say anything ever again.

They could build towers of socks miles high, and they would remain there forever. Because the one person who would usually stop that…couldn't anymore.

And she never would again.

Kya had taken care of them in big ways, but it was little things about her that had made her so special. Like the way she smiled with only one dimple. Or the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed.

Or the way she could tell them to do something- _anything, _and it would get done. Because she was their mother and they had to listen.

Because they needed that stability, that knowledge that at the end of the day, someone would be there to pick up the mess they made.

But now that someone was gone.

And she was never coming back.

All at once, her mother's death hit Katara with more force than it ever had before. She leaned into Sokka's shoulder and began to cry, not even noticing that silent tears were streaming down his face as well.

They sat that way for what seemed like forever, holding each other tightly in an attempt to keep themselves from falling apart completely.

It was only ten minutes later, though, that Hakoda appeared behind them.

Silently, he took in the scene, and without a word, he picked up his children, glanced back at his wife's grave, and carried the kids home.

* * *

When they finally reached their igloo, both siblings fell asleep almost immediately, completely emotionally drained.

They didn't stay asleep for very long, though. Nightmares chased them in and out of consciousness, and the moon was still high in the sky when Katara decided that it would hurt less to stay awake.

She turned around and found that Sokka had had the same idea. His open blue eyes shined in the moonlight, still a little red from earlier.

Not wanting to cry again, Katara found herself looking around the room instead of her brother for a distraction, but it was no use.

Everywhere she looked she saw her mother.

There, in the corner- that was where five year old Katara had tripped and banged her head, and Kya had kissed it and made it all better.

And there- that was where Kya used to make breakfast.

And that was her favorite chair.

And there was that mark from the time Katara was two and discovered she could bend, and accidentally ripped a part of that chair off.

And there-

Katara paused.

On the floor, next to Sokka, were two small socks that Katara recognized to be her brother's.

She bit her lip, remembering their conversation by the graveside, and tried her hardest not to burst into tears yet again.

She stared down at her little fists, and that's when it hit her: her mother was gone, but her essence didn't need to be.

Who said it couldn't live on in someone else- in Katara?

She looked at her brother curiously, wondering what would happen if she tried to act on her newfound realization. Would he laugh at her? Maybe he'd get angry.

As if he could sense that she was watching him, Sokka looked up and stared back at her. Looking into his eyes, Katara saw exactly the emotion that had been plaguing her just moments ago- hopelessness.

And she did not want anyone she loved to ever have to feel that way again.

She blinked once, gathered her courage, and took a deep breath. "Sokka."

"Yeah?"

"Pick up your socks."

Silence followed. Brother and sister stared at each other. Katara's heart beat quickly, maddeningly, as if trying to jump out of her chest. Maybe she'd miscalculated. She was just a kid after all, who was she to-

Her frantic thoughts were interrupted by a sudden movement. With a shock, she realized that Sokka had done as she asked.

Just like that.

Just like he would have if their mother had asked him to.

As Sokka gathered up his things, he turned to look at his little sister for a moment. There were tears in his eyes once again, but this time he did not let them fall.

Instead, he walked over to Katara and enveloped her in a hug that said more than words ever could.

And for the first time in days, she smiled.

* * *

**A/N: There ya go. Apologies if I got things about the funeral culture wrong. I did research and found nothing, so I had to make it up. (Also, I'm very interested to know if Kya or Hakoda is Gran Grab's kid. I never thought about it til now.) Well, that's it. Hope you enjoyed, and make sure to leave a request for the next character to be portrayed. Thanks!**


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